Day 28
by blowtorchacurlyfry
Summary: Summaries are hard for me. How are you supposed to capture the essence of your entire work and make it appealing for readers? Like saying it's a one-shot about Booth saving Brennan sounds so superficial and lame. I say read and judge for yourself.


Disclaimer: Symptoms of obsession may include headaches, nausea, screaming and jumping up and down at any B&B induced mania, not letting anyone else touch your boxed DVD sets, saying "I don't know what that means" to someone, and then laughing at yourself when you realize what you said, and making the other person look at you funny- oops, wrong disclaimer. I don't own Bones.

Day 28

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She had thought about it so many times before, that she thought it must now have just become part of her reality. Every day, in fact. It was the one thing that kept her going at all. Imagined it, over and over and over, the thing she clung to, every waking moment of her now pitiful existence. She was now an animal, the speck of dirt on the floor, a hollow shell. But she remembered him, remembered the one thing that still tied her to her past, to humanity, to life. So when he came, like he did every day, she was not surprised. His voice was so far away, she could see his lips move, but the sound was distorted. When he came, the door would open, and the light would come flooding in, and just that, the light, the brightness of day that was now just a memory, was enough, until he came.

But the light wasn't blindingly, wonderfully bright, the beams were artificially green, spilling into the room as the door at last was broken through. He was there though, a bulky shadow that she recognized, even in the gloom, squinting into the darkness as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. And he ran to her when he saw her, in slow motion, his firearm dropping to the ground. She no longer stared at him, but at the weapon as it hit the concrete floor. The silence pressed on her ears, but she heard it hit the floor loudly with a clunk of polymers and metal. She used to look at him, her savior, every day, when she imagined him, but now she knew the end, back to front, the way the dream worked. He never really came. Soon it would end, as it always did, and she was left to restart it from the beginning, like a never ending loop, a lifeline that was the only thing she had to cling to.

He grabbed her shoulders now, his eyes boring deep into hers, as he frantically talked to her, but his words were still lost on her. The shot registered in her head, but she didn't even blink. She did think in the distant spectrum of her mind that the feeling of the chains being cut behind her was so realistic, and she wished so hard at that moment...Booth's face was near hers again, and she looked up into it. The tears were spilling down, out of his eyes, and she reached a hand up tentatively, hesitating, and touched his cheek, feeling the hot liquid, real and wet on her finger, and she blinked, the first sign of recognition. It was so convincing, so real...too real. She felt his strong hands, uncurling her stiff fingers, cradling her head, and the feeling at the back of her throat grew, a paining, burning sensation, and she felt the tears come. Then he was picking her up, and they were leaving that place, they were out of that room, that hole where she had spent 28 days, although she no longer knew the number. Part of her still didn't believe it, but inside she knew. It wasn't a dream.

--

As they had discussed countless times before, he was a heart man, instinctual, acting on gut, but never more than at this moment did he put his faith in the science that had at last brought him here, the factual evidence that pointed true to the answer, for this time, it was her own beloved science and not his gut that had at last led him here, that would save her. His only regret was that it had taken so long. Too long, this time. The bastard was that good. But soon, he hoped, that wouldn't matter, it would be all over, one way or another. He didn't think about that now, only the deep ache of the thought that she had been in this place for this long, when it made him want to get out after only a quarter of an hour. He clutched the weapon in his hands, breaking into each door that he came to. If he was here, Booth's advantage of stealth was already taken away, but that didn't matter. She was all that mattered. Besides, he was ready for the bastard if it came to it.

The hallway was dim, lit by artificially green lamps bolted to the dank walls. He carefully crept forward, his head bowed, very conscious of the twisted metal maze of rusted pipes that snaked low over his head, occasionally dripping cold moisture. He shot his way through another heavily padlocked door, the din echoing loudly. Pushing open the door, he expected to find another generator, or more locked cabinets, but this room was strangely empty. His senses heightened, he squinted into the room, trying to see through the gloom. It was so dark. Shining his light into the room's corners, it illuminated it's emptiness first in one corner, and then happened upon a dark lump, and Booth's heart stopped, and then beat faster, as he knew. He felt his feet moving quickly, and the gun drop out of his hands, all seeming to be separate from him, an order that his brain hadn't sent. He was on his knees, unaware that his whole body was trembling, and it broke his heart to look at her. She didn't look at him at first, but stared, unseeing at the ground, and then slowly looked into his face. Her once delicately carved features were now emaciated, thin and shrunken, and her face was so pale, but more than this her wide eyes stared at him, completely blank and devoid of emotion. Her body looked broken, permanently wounded, but the emotion was gone from her eyes. There was no terror, no fear, and he realized that this absence made him more scared than anything, more scared than he had ever been in his life.

He was talking to her, pleading to her, but she didn't show any sign of recognition. Indeed, her face was entirely blank, a scared helpless animal, and for once in his life, Seeley Booth didn't know what to do. She wasn't talking to him, responding to him, and all Booth could do was find his gun again, and shoot the chains away that bound her. He would free her, get her out of this place, and she would be okay. All things can be healed, fixed, he told himself, even though in his heart he knew this wasn't true. She would be okay.

He felt himself trembling, his guard completely down, and the hot tears rolled pathways down his cheeks. Her independence, strong-headedness, everything that defined her was gone. She was frail, fragile, a being made of glass that was past it's shattering point, and he thought if he held her, he could put the pieces back together again, and heal her wounded soul. This was what he wanted more than anything. But she raised a freed hand absently, and touched a finger, ever so gently, to his cheek, to the wetness, and he saw the first glimmer of recognition in her eyes. Like a person stuck in a never ending nightmare, who had lost so long ago all traces of hope, she came out of it slowly, the disbelief evident in her face, and then the silent tears came, for her too. Her lips at last parted, and her voice cracked, saying something so quietly that he barely heard it, but it didn't matter. She knew him.

"Booth."

He leaned her against his body, there on the hard floor, and cradled the woman, his partner, against him, so tightly, like she would never get away from him again, and he felt the horrible clenching weight leave his body, that had been latched to his shoulders for four endless weeks, ever since she had been taken from them, from him, what seemed an eon ago. The world stopped.

They sat huddled in that dark place, and he wanted nothing more than to stay there with her forever, but in the back of his mind, he knew he had to get them out of there in case he came back, and he knew that the healing would only begin with the light of day. They had to get out of the depressing gloom. Holstering his weapon, he picked her weak body up. She groaned, and this and her thinness made his heart pang, but he forced himself to think clearly. He made his way towards the door, and thought to himself, _Soon we'll be out of here, it will be all over, these last four hellish weeks of uncertainty and fear, horrible, dreadful, aching fear, will be over, and we can start again._ He pictured them stepping into the light, the warm afternoon rays blinding them both._ And no matter what happens I will be with her, by her side, forevermore._

_--_

Well, there you go. Angsty, yes? I don't even know if that's the right word. Please review, reviews are love. If you have time to read a short little one-shot, you have time to take 3 seconds to write a review. Any comments, good or constructive criticism, are always appreciated. Was it too hard to understand what was going on?

I don't know what it is with me and Booth picking Brennan up. I guess it's kind of a metaphor for their relationship, in a way, him always protecting her, plus it's so romantic! Squeals like a fangirl.


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